Well, Why Not?
by Lame-O v2.0
Summary: A small collection of unreleated one-shots based on funny party banter. Bethany/Isabela, because it's just better that way.


**I don't own any of this, I merely wish it was mine. Bioware, please give me the rights, kthx.**

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><p>"So…about that book you were reading this morning." Bethany takes a seat next to Isabela at the bar.<p>

"Which one? I read two of them this morning: 'Dining on Queen Anora's Rug' and 'Hesserian's Spear'." Isabela turned her attention back to the barkeep, who passed her another glass.

"And that's the last one. You buy anymore, you'll clean me out of rum for the second week straight!"

Isabela picks up the glass, and raises it to her lips, "You should be bloody thankful for so much patronage. I could just as well go to the Blooming Rose for this sort of comfort, and more…"

Bethany started again, "The second one. I don't think I've ever heard of him having a spear in the legends. Does the Chantry know they've altered the tale?" She looks up at Isabela, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer.

Isabela downs her drink and laughs in response, "He does in this one. I have the book in my room if you're so interested. Why don't you let me show you?" A mischievous smile emerged as she got up, grabbed Bethany by the wrist and walked towards the halls.

"Oh boy, oh boy. There she goes again. Every night is the same: one girl, one boy, then an elf with a toy. She thinks I don't know. But I know she knows. She also knows that I know, that she knows but I can't tell if anyone else knows that I know that she knows that I know about her knowing. I smell cinnamon." A talkative man walks past the pair, babbling away. They pay him no heed.

Once in Isabela's room, said woman closes the door and deftly locks it. Bethany takes the time to look around the room; it's small, and smells like a mixture of sweat, liquor, and…something else she can't quite make out. The stench makes her wrinkle her nose in displeasure.

"Isabela, don't you ever clean this place? Or at least find someone to clean it for you? At the very least, Merril would happily oblige." She turned toward the Rivaini and noticed her smug look.

"What's so funny, Bela?"

"Nothing," She answers, the grin still swept across her sandy features. "The book is on the bed, read the description."

Bethany walks towards the bed, with Isabela sauntering close behind her.

"Andraste knelt before no man but her Maker, but she hadn't counted on the archon Hesserian." She read as Isabela held back a snicker.

"Can Hesserian penetrate the tight-knit defenses of the warrior prophetess? Will she be prepared to face the full blast of his…power?" Bethany thought on this for a moment as Isabela tried to unsuccessfully hold back another small fit of laughter.

"Wait a minute…Isabela!" Bethany turned around, face to face with the pirate.

"This is a vulgar thing!" She threw the book back on the bed, and frowned with disapproval at Isabela.

"Maybe…But would you like to borrow it?" Isabela asked huskily. Suddenly, Bethany realized the proximity of their faces and turned a dark shade of pink.

"N-No! I'm quite alright…" Bethany began to step away from the exotic woman, but Isabela wouldn't have it. She grabbed Bethany by the arm and whispered in her ear once again.

"Are you sure? It has pictures…" If it was possible, Bethany's face blushed even more and she continued her advancement towards the door.

"Aww, come on, Sweet Thing, you didn't even read the description of my other book!" Isabela pouted and look at Bethany with pretend sadness.

"Not listening! I'm not listening!" Bethany covered her ears and proceeded to exit, but was stopped.

"Bela, there's something wrong with your door…" Bethany examined the doorknob, then turned and looked at Isabela quizzically. "…Why won't it open?"

Isabela sighed, "Oh bugger, I really hate it when that happens. Oh well, looks like you'll be staying here for the night." Bethany thought she saw an evil gleam in her eye, but decided to just attribute that to the poor lighting of The Hanged Man.

After all, she'd rather remain positive in a situation such as this. Isabela knew how to control herself…right?

A tense silence ensued for some time.

"…So, I imagine if a member of the Chantry, say, Sister Patrice, caught you with that book she would not be too pleased." Bethany ended the silence and sat down in the chair. Isabela remained standing, still with a rather yearning expression on her face.

"What is this? An attempt to blackmail?" she scoffed in mock annoyance, "Besides, who do you think I stole the book from anyway?" Isabela finished, chuckling slightly.

"W-What? No…You're kidding!" Bethany exclaimed in disbelief, laughing. "I couldn't imagine…but why?"

"Because, Sweetness," Isabela strolled over to Bethany's seat and leaned forward. She began to twirl a piece of the mage's hair with her finger.

"As deprived as Chantry sisters are, they'll do anything to acquire the most sacred of tomes that will help them with their…_release_." She stared intently into Bethany's eyes, her hunger being displayed shamelessly as Bethany gulped.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
